


Let no man steal your thyme

by Little_buttercup



Series: Nereval and Nerevar [6]
Category: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:25:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12417531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_buttercup/pseuds/Little_buttercup
Summary: She drinks and he watches.





	Let no man steal your thyme

Nereval screwed her face up as the alcohol slid down her throat and left a trail of heat going into her stomach. After a moment she took a deep breath and threw her head back, “Boy, that is strong.” She muttered, then took another swig from the tankard. It was well needed after the most recent events. She had been to the Incarnates Cavern, and it was beyond anything she could describe in words. Talking to the Daedric Prince Azura and the other incarnates… It felt like something had changed in her, that she was ready to do this. To become the Nerevarine and the Hortator in Nerevars name.

Then, returning to the Urshilaku camp, she was named their Nerevarine.

Idly she played with the ring on her finger, feeling the blunt edges of the star press into her fingers. She had a lot to improve on, fleeing from her enemies could only work for so long. One day she will find someone who can outrun her, then she truly will end her adventure.

After a while of sitting in silence, she grabbed another drink and stumbled to the room she had rented for the evening. Once the door was locked and a chair shoved against the handle for extra precaution, Nerevar sat on the bed with his hands on his knees, a slight smirk on his face.

“I did not think you could handle such a strong drink so well, Nereval.”

She turned to face the general, a scowl on her face, “I am a Dunmer of Morrowind, this drink is nothing.” She paused in her musings and doubled over, a strong sickening feeling in her gut coming on. “I think I ate something that was… off.”

“Or, you cannot handle it. Come, rest.” He stood up from the bed and with a firm hand he guided her to lay down. At best, she could only get slightly drunk, so the hangover should not be too bad tomorrow, he hoped.

The young dunmer stared at the ceiling with a distant look in her eyes and she hummed a soft tune under her breath, eventually adding softer words that Nerevar struggled to catch on to. Whatever it was, it brought her back to a time that she seemed relatively at peace. He was almost jealous, the life she had before this one must have been better, peaceful. He only knew of a life filled with war, betrayal and sheer violence. He felt guilty, for he knew that the reason she wasn’t there now is because he had chosen her, he had the strings of fate pulled and he had her taken from the life she had known and loved.

_“...For when your thyme, it is passed and gone, he’ll care no more for you. And every place your time was waste, will all spread over with rue…”_

As Nereval trailed off with her song, her eyes began to close. Nerevar felt that the lyrics of her small song had truly struck a chord deep inside of him. He studied the dunmers sleeping face, her dark lashes against her dark skin, the high cheekbones and dry lips, stained by Sujamma. Her ears, small yet the tip flared outwards, three simple golden bands pierced through one side. He knew he other side held many more too. She was truly a fine dunmer, pleasing to look at, unmarred face with no scars or war paint. He wondered what she would look like as a Chimer, would her beauty outmatch Almalexias?

It wasn’t long until daylight broke through the curtains, yet Nerevar stood over the dunmer for a moment more, memorizing every detail of her face once more, and decided to let her sleep. She deserves a good rest.

Especially with the battles to come.


End file.
